


Rules for engagement

by AceOfRoses



Category: The Magnus Archives
Genre: Anxiety/bad body image, First work - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, I don't know if I'm doing this right but I'm gonna try, Jon Sims can comfort people!, M/M, Martin get better coping mechanisms challenge, Martin has a bad day, plus-size Martin, projecting on to jmart hours, scottish safehouse period
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:27:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28992168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceOfRoses/pseuds/AceOfRoses
Summary: Martin knows today is going to be a bad day, but that's ok. He has ways of dealing. Only problem is, he's not alone.Martin attempts to hide his bad day from Jon and is unsuccessful
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 16
Kudos: 113





	Rules for engagement

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello!  
> CW for this fic: bad body image/internalized fatphobia, anxiety, intrusive thoughts, mentions of Martin's mom
> 
> I would like to note that stuff in this fic could be read as dysphoria/dysmorphia, so if that's a trigger for you please be careful! It's not too serious but better safe than sorry.
> 
> Also, I've never written fanfic before and don't really have experience in creative writing, so any constructive criticism/comments are welcome!

Martin knew it was going to be a bad day from the moment he woke up. Something in his bones, in his skin, vaguely uncomfortable in a way that was unfortunately familiar. “Thank goodness it’s a Saturday” he thought, before remembering where he was. He didn’t need to go into work. He wasn’t even in London. He was in Scotland, in the old bed that had become familiar, with Jon sleeping away next to him… Shoot. Jon. He was going to have to endure what he’d come to know as a Bad Body Day in the company of someone else. Hell.

It was a good thing Martin was an early riser. Getting through today was going to require a game plan. He carefully got out of bed and got dressed, avoiding the small mirror on top of the dresser. He had rules for this kind of thing. 

Rule Number 1: Avoid your reflection at all costs. It won’t do you any good. 

Rule Number 2: Dress comfy. He pulled a large sweater over his head, taking comfort in it’s warmth and the way it folded over his body, hiding every perceived flaw from view. He could’ve stayed in his pyjamas, but at least this way he’d feel semi-accomplished. Sighing, he made his way to the kitchen and started boiling the kettle for tea.

Rule Number 3: Avoid being touched, if possible. A bleary-eyed Jon stumbled into the kitchen, not noticing Martin’s reluctance when it came to a good morning hug. Martin felt bad for pulling away, but the pressure of the hug reminded him of his body and everything he was trying to forget.

Rule Number 4: Distraction, distraction, distraction (to the tune of location, location, location). The rest of the morning passed slowly. Sitting on the couch, reading one of the few good books Daisy had left, he tried to escape to another world for a while. It didn’t work. He could never tell how long these spells would last. Sometimes they appeared and left within an hour, sometimes they’d stay for a week or longer. Sometimes they came on halfway through the day, turning what had been a nice outfit and a good day into a rush to get home and away from any prying eyes. (Rule Number 5: don’t think about what they see. This one was hardest to follow.)

That was the worst part, honestly. Having Jon here meant there was always someone watching him. There was always someone who could see him, his imperfections, his less than ideal existence. His boyfriend was literally an avatar of the Eye, and Martin was afraid of being seen. He gave a dark chuckle at the irony of that last thought. Of course it would be like that. He just couldn’t win. 

Jon looked up. 

“Something funny?”

“Oh no, just… thinking”

“About?”

“Nothing important”

Jon paused, then readjusted his position on the couch to better see Martin.

“Martin, are you… are you alright? You… you’ve been acting a bit off today.”

“I’m… I’m ok, Jon. Just having a bad day, is all.”

“Can I do anything? Do you want to talk about it?”

Rule Number 6: Don’t get other people involved. Martin did not want to talk about it. He knew that he should. Talking was good, communication was important and Jon deserved an explanation for his closed-off actions. The only problem was that it was hard to talk about it. He didn’t have the right words to explain how sometimes he just didn’t feel right in his skin, or felt like his clothes fit wrong or was just downright ashamed of every part of him. He just didn’t know how he could make Jon understand. All his swirling thoughts threatened to overwhelm him, the anxiety and loathing and the words he’d heard all his life drowning out every rational thought until it forced out the question that had been haunting him for days.

“Jon… why do you like me? Why me, of all people?”

Jon started, concerned, pulling back to see Martin more completely. He was clearly surprised by the question and worried by his tone. Martin couldn’t help but bury deeper into the pillows in an attempt to put some distance between himself and the question he had tried so hard not to ask. 

“So many reasons, Martin. Why?”

“Just… I don’t know, of all the people in the world you got stuck with me! Why… why would  
you want to stay?”

“Martin…” 

His voice is soft, now, and there’s sadness in it. The voices in his head scream that it’s pity, it’s pity, look at you, you’re awful, he’s sorry for you-

“Martin, there are so many reasons I stayed here. And, and I’m not stuck with you! I chose to come out here, I asked you to come, there’s no one else I’d rather be sharing a dingy safehouse in the highlands with! You’re smart, and sweet, and kind, you’re… probably the kindest person I know, and you make a damn good cup of tea, why would I want to be anywhere else?

Jon’s outburst seemed to shock his anxieties into silence for a moment, but then they rushed back with the added feeling of shame that he even started talking.

“But… I mean, look at me. How can… how can you love me?”

There’s a moment of realization as Jon seems to finally get where all this is coming from, and the wave of sadness that crosses his face does nothing but fuel Martin’s anxious thoughts. “He pities you, he’s ashamed for you, just look at you, why would anyone want to be with you?”

“Martin… when was the last time someone told you that you’re beautiful?”

That, at least, shocks him out of his spiral. He casts his mind back, surely some time… But no. As much as Tim would shower everyone with compliments around at the archives, he never felt like he could accept them. As though Tim’s joking manner and Martin’s anxieties clashed in a way that constantly made him question whether Tim actually meant it. Other relationships, maybe? But it’d been so long since he had had a functioning relationship, and even then he felt awkward and ashamed when he would be introduced as someone’s boyfriend, always mentally apologizing, I’m sorry you’re stuck with me. And his mother? Out of the question. It had been so long.

Jon took his silence as an answer.

“Oh Martin…”

Martin turned away, unable to look at his boyfriend, loath to let him see the tears forming in response to his words. Rule Number 7: You can cry when you’re alone, but never before then.

“Martin, look at me. You are absolutely beautiful. And I promise you, I’m not just saying that because I can gather that shockingly few people have said the same thing. You… you’re wonderful, and soft and kind and as much as those are admirable qualities it just wouldn’t be you if you looked any different. I love your face, and your smile, and your… everything, really. It’s all a part of the man I fell in love with, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I… hope you can believe me, and I don’t know if… if I’m doing or saying the right thing but I can’t let you go around thinking that you’re anything less than beautiful.”

Martin had definitely started crying now. 

Screw the rules.

“I… look Jon. It’s not that I don’t trust you, I do, with my life. It’s just that… that’s something very hard to believe. I know you’re not lying, logically I know you wouldn’t do that, it’s just… not something I can really… I can’t believe that, Jon. Not right now.”

“Hey, hey, that’s okay, if it’s too much that’s okay, I’m sorry…”

Jon moved closer, snuggling into Martin and wrapping his arms around Martin’s shaking form. He was trying so hard to keep it under control. But it had been so long since anyone had cared, and Jon had sounded so convinced, and he couldn’t explain how his words directly contradicted what Martin had known for so long. That no one could actually love him. It was too much for one day. 

Jon stayed with him until his shoulders stopped shaking and his tears dried up. It wouldn’t be ok for a while, but that was ok. Jon was here. He had time to figure out the words, and to say them, and to slowly learn a different way of being. And Jon would be there. Jon would be with him. As much as there would be time for words later, there were a few he had to say now. 

“Jon?”  
“Hmm?”  
“I love you.”  
“I love you too, Martin.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Big thanks to my friend Crow, for being my beta and unintentional inspiration (by that I mean they said "Hey maybe just start writing and see where it goes" and here we are). You can check them out at @thachedrooftavern, and I recommend you do so!
> 
> Again, constructive criticism and comments are very much appreciated! 
> 
> Have a lovely day!


End file.
